Mergers and Acquisitions
So I was lying in bed last night trying to figure out what I wanted to do next with the Sungmin/Kibum/Yesung storyline (yeah, that's right—the hooker!verse keeps me up at night) and I was hit suddenly with a flash of inspiration. This is the product of that inspiration. Prepare to be shocked and, hopefully, titillated.

Mergers and Acquisitions
pairing: Yesung/Kibum

Yesung reasons that the whole point of having a sleek black limo is to be decadently served, so when they reach their destination he waits for the chauffeur to come around and open the door for him.

"We have arrived, sir," says the dour-looking man, and Yesung pointedly ignores him as he steps out of the car. That, after all, is the whole point of having servants.

"Oppa, why are we here? Don't think I'm naïve—I know what's in this neighborhood! Are you going to one of those hostess bars?"

Sunny is wearing a mini-dress and several pounds of gold jewelry and makeup, and Yesung decides then that he will dump the stupid bitch. She's too fucking loud in bed, anyway.

"Of course not, baby, why would I go to one of those places when I have you?" Sunny preens, and Yesung imagines backhanding her and smiles. "I'm here to see an old friend. You have the driver take you wherever you want while you're waiting, ok?"

Sunny grins in delight, then pouts. "I'll miss you," she says. He pouts back at her, waves and closes the door in her face. With a dismissive nod to the chauffeur he begins to walk down the street; it isn't long before he spots the sign he is looking for.

Pantheon Gentlemen's Club.

***

Kibum is almost finished with the books when he hears a knock on his office door.

"Kibum-sshi," comes the voice. Sungmin.

He controls the smile that plays at the corner of his lips and then, without looking up from his ledger, says curtly, "Come in and close the door behind you." When he hears the door open and close, he asks, "Well, what is it?"

"There's someone here to see you, on a...how did he put it...'personal matter'."

"You can tell him I don't accept social callers at work, and that he can either pay and fuck you or get out," Kibum says blandly, neatly filling in a column of zeros.

He can hear the smile in Sungmin's voice when he responds. "I was hoping you'd say that. I was going to get him to fuck me anyway." Kibum carries a three and waits for the sound of the door opening. He raises an eyebrow, still without looking up, when Sungmin starts to speak again. "I forgot, he really wanted me to tell you his name. I told him that I didn't think it would matter, but he kept saying, 'You have to tell him Yesung's here to see him'."

Kibum is glad he does his books in pen, because he is sure he would've snapped a pencil in half. As it is, he scratches a jagged black line across his columns of figures and swears quietly but viciously.

"Should I...do you want me to send him in?" Sungmin asks, voice suddenly unsure. Kibum finally looks up and his eyes narrow in the second it takes for him to decide.

"Yes."

When the door closes behind Sungmin, Kibum turns back to his ledger and pretends to keep working. He writes random numbers on the ruined page and waits for the door to open again. He tells his heart to stop beating so fast.

Then he hears the click of the door and the voice he's been trying to forget for so long.

"Kibum-ah." He forces himself to keep his eyes on the ledger. "Nice office you've got here." Kibum can hear Yesung moving around, imagines him looking at the art on the walls, fingering the baubles on the bookshelf and smirking like he always used to.

"I let you in," Kibum says, and raises his eyes with studied indifference, tries not to care that Yesung looks better than he ever did in high school, better than anything that Kibum has ever seen, "so that I could tell you to your face to go fuck yourself."

Yesung smiles. "That hurts, Kibum, it really does."

Kibum smiles back, lips tight. "Cut the shit, Yesung. We both know you're here for money. Why else would you be here? And you must be pretty desperate to come to me. But I'm not going to give you one single won, you son of a bitch." He makes sure to keep his voice calm and even.

Yesung's smile broadens. "Oh, I'm not here for money, Kibum-ah. I've got plenty of that now."

"Then why are you here?"

Yesung leans over the other side of Kibum's desk. "Maybe I missed you."

Suddenly Kibum is up; his chair crashes into the back wall as he grabs Yesung's collar and wrenches him forward across the desk, brings their foreheads together and hisses into Yesung's face. "Don't you dare pretend like you gave a shit, you fucker, don't you fucking dare pretend like you weren't just using me. You never gave a fuck, did you?" When Yesung just smiles, he shakes him violently and growls, "Did you?"

Yesung's eyes are dark, bottomless, and he is still smiling faintly when he says, "You're wrong, Kibum-ah. I always cared for you."

Kibum hits him, hard, sends him reeling backward clutching at his eye and comes out from behind his desk. He grabs Yesung's collar again and slams him back against the wall, raises his fist and is about to deliver another punch when Yesung grabs his face in both hands and kisses him.

He fights it, punches Yesung in the stomach, bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, but Yesung doesn't let go and Kibum doesn't really want him to. He gives in with a shudder and kisses Yesung deep. The kiss tastes like laughter and hatred and blood and Kibum can't get enough; he grabs Yesung's hair and yanks, pulls him in until their noses are smashed together and he can't smell anything but Yesung's cologne and sweat, can't see anything but Yesung's skin.

When Yesung's hands slip below his waistband Kibum finally gets up the resolve to push away. They stare at each other for a second, both breathing heavily, lips too red, and then Kibum growls, "Get out."

"Fine," Yesung smiles, and opens the office door. "But you'll be seeing me again real soon, Kibum-ah."

Kibum scowls and slams the door shut in Yesung's face, then leans his back against it and runs shaky fingers over his bruised lips.

***

Sungmin is rarely surprised by anything anymore, and yet this day he is outright shocked not once, not twice, but three times. The first surprise is seeing Kibum so rattled. Sungmin has been trying to get under Kibum's skin since he arrived, and Sungmin is good at what he does. If he couldn't do it, he had reasoned, then Kibum simply couldn't be shaken, and yet now with just the mention of a name...

Yesung.

This Yesung, Sungmin decides, is worth getting to know. It's possible that he will prove to be the key to what Sungmin wants, and even if he doesn't, Sungmin will at least get fucked and paid in the process of finding out. So he decides to wait outside Kibum's office and put his plan to work as soon as the meeting is done.

This is when he receives his second surprise of the day—Yesung, hair ruffled, tailored clothes in disarray, eye quickly blackening and bottom lip swollen and bleeding. It would be enough to derail a lesser man entirely, but Sungmin is a professional.

"I guess you and Kibum-sshi really are close, then," Sungmin says, face molded into a mask of lazy amusement. He runs his thumb gently over Yesung's lower lip, smearing the blood like paint and then bringing the thumb to his mouth. He wonders idly if any part of the iron tang in the flavor is Kibum's.

Yesung doesn't flinch, doesn't even seem surprised. "You have no idea."

Sungmin smiles. This will be fun. "Around here," he says, stepping too close to Yesung, "we treat friends of the manager as very special guests." Now his body is in contact with Yesung's in all the places that make his clients squirm. "Perhaps I can show you," he breathes into Yesung's ear.

Yesung takes a smooth step backwards, and Sungmin is sure that this will be very fun, indeed. "What time do you start work tonight?" Yesung asks as he writes something on the back of a business card.

"At eleven."

"Meet me here at eight, then," Yesung says, slipping the card into Sungmin's back pocket. "And wear something nice. We'll be celebrating." Then, with a final pat on Sungmin's ass, Yesung is gone.

Sungmin takes out the card. On the back there is a room number and the name of a fancy hotel in downtown Seoul. On the front is Yesung's business information. Kim Jongwoon, Sungmin reads. He receives his third surprise of the day when his eyes catch on the title written below.

***

Yesung waits with perfectly-concealed impatience as the old man's arthritic hand drags pen over paper.

"You were one of my son's classmates, weren't you?" asks the elder Choi.

"That's right, sir."

"But you were a scholarship student, weren't you? Not from a moneyed family. I must admit to an old man's curiosity in where you found the funds for this purchase."

Yesung laughs. "Ah, sir, you know better than to ask that of another businessman. We all have our own sources of income, don't we?"

The elder Choi's laughter quickly degenerates into a coughing fit. When he recovers, he says, "Right you are, my boy, right you are. And now you have one more." He reaches out his hand and Yesung grasps it. "Congratulations; you're the proud new owner of the Pantheon Gentlemen's Club."